


Guardian Angel

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Monsters, Post-Apocalypse, Trick or Treat: Treat, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: They had come for her family, and now she was the only one left.  She fled down the ridge her parents warned her never to cross, and soon enough, the Raiders are the least of her worries.  However, she also has the beasts to contend with now.





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



She stood at the edge of the ridge, panting.  Her legs and feet hurt, and she was so tired and hungry.  She was scraped and bruised and out of breath and hungry.  And she still needed to run further.  She still could smell the smoke and her ears were still ringing from the gunshots and the bleating of animals and the screaming of her family.

Her eyes started to tear up until she slammed them shut and drew a deep breath.  It didn’t help, she couldn’t stop thinking of mom and dad and Gabriel and the twins.  She was the youngest in her family until tonight.  Now she was the oldest one left. 

She turned back; it was too far to see the fires anymore, but she could still see the smoke—rather, she could see where it blotted out the stars.  She turned around again, looking at the ridge, where not even her father liked to venture; stay between the river and the ridge and you’d stay out of trouble.  Until trouble came from across the river.

She took a deep breath and tried to see a good way down the ridge.  Something loud behind her, maybe the engine of one of their things, their trucks, like dad said, roared from the direction of the farm.  She took a step forward.  Maybe it was the darkness, or it would’ve been impossible to safely climb down in daylight.  Either way she tumbled down, unable to suppress a scream on the way down.

She was cut up and bruised now, and trying to get back up hurt more.  But the truck had been heading for her, with the man she hit in the face with the lantern—that was how she got away, the man who had separated her from her family wasn’t paying attention and she flung a lantern in his face—would be coming.

Somewhere, between her sobs and groans, she heard it.  A low, _wet_ huffing sound, almost like a sick cow.  But not quite.  She spun around in a circle, the cuts in her legs protesting all the way, until she finally saw something, moonlight, reflected from something her height.    Two somethings.  Two somethings that blinked.

The thing drew closer and she found a new reason to run, kicking up small stones as she did.  A few seconds later, she heard the thing crunching stones too, and she doubled her efforts, tripping and splashing and crying. 

* * *

She sat on the tree branch, unable to sleep until morning.  Desperate, she had cut herself on the leaves and sticks as she climbed her way up.  The thing huffed underneath her the entire night.  Mom and dad said nothing about this thing.  But it had to by why they weren’t supposed to go near the ridge.

When dawn broke, she rolled over to see it start to trudge away, six clawed legs crushing scrubby grass as it left, its gray, leathery hide reminded her off the rocky ridge.  She fell asleep draped over the tree limb she’d been lying awake on and dreamed of home.

She cried again when she woke up.

She forced herself to climb down the tree, gingerly.  Her stomach was rumbling and her throat was dry.  She waited at the base of the tree, for the monster to burst from the foliage, ready to spring back up the tree.  The monster didn’t came, so she ventured forth.  She couldn’t maintain a farm by herself, not that the raiders left anything to maintain, but mom and dad made sure she knew how to forage.

She stuffed her pockets with sweet berries and wandered until she found a shallow stream.  She sat on the bank, cupping her hands in the cool water and drinking, splashing her face, washing the cuts she’d gotten climbing the tree and escaping her home, picking stray pebbles that had stuck to her out of her wounds.

She didn’t have a home any more. 

She tried to force herself to be strong, that she had to keep it together, that she could handle this, and it did not work.  She could never go home again, and would never see mom, dad, or her brothers again.  That hurt more than any of her cuts.

She had no idea how long she sat on the bank until she heard rustling in the brush.  She spun and gasped when she saw him.  His face had some ugly burns caused by the flaming oil in the lamp; he had two more of his friends, but she was focused on him.  Her heart raced, and he grinned.

Until the monster pounced on one of his friends.

There was a lot of screaming from everyone.  Screaming and cracking and gurgling.  The smell wasn’t unlike the herd when Dad slaughtered one, but there was so much more screaming.  The monster wasn’t neat or fast.

She ran up the bank of the river until something horrible made her turn around.  She saw the monster, worrying the throat of the scar-faced man in its jaws, and it saw her and blinked.

* * *

The night was very cold, but she didn’t dare leave a tree to start a fire.  She just huddled up and watched the monster from when it strolled out of the underbrush and curled up under her tree until the sun went down.  She ate the berries she had found and was still hungry, and watched it watch her from the bottom of the tree. 

She needed to move.  But where?  Back to the farm, where hopefully the other raiders had already moved on?  Deeper into the woods, to find a place with more comfortable trees and where the monster might not follow?  Might not.

The monster tilted it’s muzzle upwards, spread it’s jaws apart, and yawned, the little red flailing things with hooks on the end waving in the air as it did so.  It curled into a tight ball as well, looking up at her with its big black eyes.  She couldn’t stay here, with the monster waiting for her too fall out of the tree or something, but she couldn’t go home and had no idea where she’d go if she continued in any direction.

There were no good ideas. 

She curled up into a ball, shivering, and tried to decide what idea out of the many bad ones, was best.  Meanwhile, below her the monster huffed and wheezed and stared.

* * *

She woke on something soft, not the rough, irregular tree limb.  Something that was big enough too small to comfortably fit on, rather than one too-small branch.  It took her a long time to realize she was laying on and under a pile of furs, with a leather jacket several sizes too big for her thrown over her shoulders and zipped up.  She flailed her way out, realizing as she pitched over the side of the box she was in that it was one of the raider’s trucks.  It was parked right next to the smoking ruins of her home. 

He head snapped up, looking for the gang, heart pounding.  It didn’t get any better when she saw them, mangled and carved open.  A knife lay on the ground by her feet, and she picked it up.  A low, rhythmic trilling drew her attention to something behind her. 

It was the monster, sitting on its lower two pairs of legs, its forepaws holding were bashing something together over a pile of twigs. At it's side was what looked to be a skinned carcass--an animal's, maybe a deer's.  It’s black eyes focued on her and it grumbled, twisting it’s head quizzically.  She wheeled around, looking at the entire raider gang it had killed.  The beast itself was covered in scabbed-over wounds, but the way it shifted indicated it was in pain.

“Are… you… did you do all this?”

If she expected a reply, she didn’t get one.  Her stomach was in knots; the creature had plucked her out of her tree and dragged her home, all without her noticing.  The tree didn’t save her the first night, and the fact that she never ventured down the ridge until that time didn’t save her either.  The creature could fetch her out of a tree.  It continued to bang two rocks together over its pile of wood.

“Are you trying to start a fire?”

No answer, but she slowly approached, holding out a hand.  The creature tilted its head and handed it over.  It was a piece of flint—it knew the right type of rock to use, just not the right type of striker.  The creature tensed when she raised the knife, and she immediately lowered it while holding her free hand up, making quiet conciliations.

It was terrifying, but it had saved her from the raiders, and from the cold, and looked to be trying to do the same with her hunger.  Had it picked up firebuilding by watching them?  She thought it had to be preposterous, but it had found a good selection of tinder, kindling, and fuel.  It was scary to think of it staring at her, but it seemed to mean her no harm.  So she meant to not scare it or anger it.

When it calmed down some, she struck the flint with the knife, once, twice, and on the third time she got sparks.  The tinder caught, and soon, they had a fire.  The beast leaned down and wrenched the leg off the deer, holding it above the fire, slowly rotating it as it looked at her and she looked at it.

As her stomach rumbled and mouth watered, she continued to look at the monster.  It was still very frightening.  But it was also making an effort not to scare her.  It had protected her, and was cooking food for her.

She gave it a smile as it watched her, before standing up and extending her left hand—it’s right was occupied, so they’d have to shake with the left.  If this thing was going to be hanging around, it was high time she made a proper introduction with it.


End file.
